


you're a man now, boy

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, Arguing, Begging, Crushes, Everybody Lives, Facials, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Gladnis Week, Happy AU, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Prompt Fic, Resolved By Cuddles, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Sickfic, Soft Gladiolus Amicitia, hair petting, list will be added to eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: A collection of varied fills for Gladnis 2018 week on tumblr.DAY SEVEN: FREE DAYGladio tried to speak before he was truly capable of words. What emerged was a mess of stammering. Ignis’ name, threaded with awe and incomprehensible shock. “Ignis… Ignis, I -”“I’d quite like to be yours,” Ignis said, seeming so very small on his knees. Faced with Gladio’s slack jawed hesitance, anxiety had planted a faint tremor within Ignis’ famously sure hands. “If you’d have me, of course.”





	1. sick!fic

A lump in the bed soothed the aching pains in Gladio’s heart that had gone too long ignored. 

Every part of him hurt in ways they seemed to never hurt before. Toeing off his heavy boots by the door had been one of the greatest feelings he had ever known. Rolling his shoulders hard had somehow felt even better. Finding no medicine in his largely empty cupboards had not been so kind, but a simple uninterrupted rest would do him good. Relief came rarely to him as did time to relax. It had been hours since he had simply sat down. Rumbling through what felt like the entire stretch of Lucis in an unreliable van filled with sweaty, irritable hunters didn’t count.

He began with his jacket. That always smelt the worst, like sweat and cooking leather. It hit the floor with a soft thump, quickly followed by his belt and old jeans. Every sound felt magnified in the silence. But Ignis never stirred, in the kind of deep slumber than Gladio longed for. More often than not it was when the hard ground of a haven was underneath him, back against the rough stone and waiting for a creature of a night to shake him to his bones. And then he would kill it, and then still not rest. 

Gladio’s brain felt swollen; too big for his skull. It had done since they crossed the line back into Cleigne. Lugging around his greatsword by hand was not something he had easily become accustomed to and he was plagued by weakness, his muscles oddly soft and unwilling to coordinate. Walking felt like a greater effort than it should. His voice had failed him one too many times. It was simply a cold, he knew, nothing serious. But it had ground him down into something lesser than what he should have been. To him, that was unacceptable.

At least home was reasonably warm, and he found Ignis’ skin even warmer. Gladio undressed until he stood in his only good remaining pair of boxers, with no holes and no frays. Kicking his clothes into the very same corner he saw Ignis’ lay carelessly bundled rather than folded, he sighed. Tomorrow was another day and for once he wasn’t sleeping alone. As much as he maybe deserved the isolation Ignis had come back to him. And Gladio would never show him the door, asshole he could be.

He peeled back the thin sheets with care. Ignis slumbered on undisturbed, expression lax and lips parted. In the darkness, room illuminated only by soft moonlight, his scars seemed only to be shadows that would be cast away by the most fleeting touch of light. The stark line of his collarbones stood prominent and the bare skin of his chest appeared like dew, damn near translucent. 

At any other point Gladio might have stared forever. Instead he slipped underneath, mattress dipping low under his weight. Weeks ago when he had first packed his shit and left the poor excuse of an apartment that temporarily served as Ignis’ home in a rage, finding an old man desperate to let an old apartment to someone vaguely competent, skilled with a sword who could protect the area, he had been surprised at how soft the mattress was. There was mould in almost every corner and no lock, something Ignis had felt and clearly taken advantage of, but Gladio slept well when he found refuge from the nightmares. It was one of the few creature comforts that remained to him now. It felt perfect against Gladio’s sore back, good enough for him to groan low in the back of his throat. He pulled the cover back over them both, making sure Ignis was completely protected and drawing closer to feel the heat he emitted. Gladio nestled against a flat pillow, breath leaving him in a long sigh. Closing his eyes had never felt so good. 

A part of him knew it was only the beginning. No doubt he would wake still exhausted and with a blocked nose and stuffy head, filled with cotton and frustrations. Modest aches would become locked up joints. Another day, another series of problems. 

Gladio was beginning to realise sleep was utterly beyond him when there was a feather light touch to his jaw.

He opened his eyes and found Ignis’ heavy lidded, gazing vaguely at him. His cheek was squished against the pillow, hair wild. A small sad smile made his lips quirk. 

“Are you awake?” He asked, and gods, Gladio hadn’t known how much he missed that voice. Messy and thick with sleep. He missed it more than he missed the hand that traced the hard line of his jaw. Stubble dragged along the calloused fingertips.

Gladio answered his call. Covering Ignis’ hand with his own he turned his head to delicately kiss the palm. Perhaps too much, considering the last they saw of each other was damn near a month ago, harsh words that neither meant and the slamming of doors. But Gladio had missed him like a limb, an eye, another half of his wounded heart. And if Ignis lay nude in their bed, having found his home and touched his cheek so softly, Ignis was open to forgiveness from the both of them. 

At the touch of his lips Ignis knew. His eyes fluttered shut and his smile sat easier. “Thank you,” he breathed, and then he was closer, flattening a hand over Gladio’s never peaceful heart. Those pink lips were close enough to easily kiss. Possibilities had Gladio’s mind spinning. “Gladio…”

“Didn’t think you would have left the city just to find little old me,” His voice emerged, like it battled through glass. If Ignis found it peculiar he said nothing but when Gladio released his hand Ignis trailed it down the tense tendons of his throat as if he knew that ache. Ignis kept shifting until he was nestled against Gladio’s side. Long legs brushed against his. 

“Prompto showed me where to find you,” he spoke close to a whisper. It made sense. Gladio had only told Cor where to find him in case of an emergency and Cor kept no secrets from his son. Last he heard the others had all been holed up in Lestallum, regularly making trips to anywhere to the Myrlwood and the coast at Galdin. They left their mark on the world wherever they went. Ignis was kicking ass, taking names and saving droves of people while he was at it. Every Hunter might have been doing the same, Gladio included, but everything that Ignis had ever done had been made special, just by the fact it was Ignis doing it. Since the moment Gladio first saw him all those years ago, a boy covered in soil and grass sitting with his father and frowning as he saw the vegetables he had buried hadn’t grown as well as he hoped - since the moment Gladio had thought  _ yes, you _ , every single thing Ignis had ever done had been inspiring. Every breath and every smile.

Now he was here. He was softer than he recalled, Gladio thought, smelt a little sour. Fresh from battle no doubt. Ignis couldn’t stay away from a scrap. Some things never changed.

“I missed you,” Ignis told him as if it was as simple as all that. And maybe it was, when the world was quiet and and Ignis was leaning forward to sloppily kiss his chin. His lips were firm and chapped and the most beautiful thing Gladio had known in all those painful days apart. He exhaled steadily and even that tore at his throat. Ignis murmured against him, breath billowing over his throat. Unsteady, uncertainly exploring hands gripped at his shoulders and Ignis’ lips were lazy, scent overwhelming Gladio entirely. 

“And I missed you,” he returned, even if the words struggled to free themselves for a thousand different reasons. Nonetheless they made Ignis smile.

Squeezing at Ignis’ shoulder he rumbled pointlessly, watching as Ignis drooped in his own half awake state but valiantly attempted to hold Gladio closer yet. He laughed a little as Ignis softly complained at his own failures, their bodies both unforgivably weak, unforgivably lax.  “Go back to sleep, Ignis,” he said, like grit crushed under the wheel of a truck. A glass of water on the nightstand was a good idea too late. “I’ll still be here, come morning.”

Even if Ignis didn’t believe him, there was little he could do to fight his body. His eyes were already drifting shut again. Tucking his face into the meat of Gladio’s shoulder he murmured and his breathing evened out impressively quick. Soon he was fast asleep, barely resisting as Gladio shifted to pet over his smooth hair. It wouldn’t be long before he made Gladio’s arm agonisingly numb but he dare not free himself, not now he finally had Ignis where he wanted him.

Too often these new cramped rooms were silent. Gladio was no longer one to entertain guests he didn’t know intimately. Overnight guests were things of the too distant past, long since left in the dust. Now Ignis’ barely audible breathing managed to fill the room. It filled Gladio’s head, and soothed his uneasy heart.

A headache still pounded his skull - sleep was still far beyond him that night, but Ignis’ peace and satisfaction was his until what should have been the morning failed to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, at officialcorleonis! the corleonis url is taken by a hipster blog :^)))


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt 'sultry'.

There were many things about Ignis that made Gladio a weak man, from the sheer delight of his laughter to the curve of his ass, but tonight it was the eye contact that tore him apart. Swollen lips around his cock absolutely helped but Ignis’ teasing eyes on his made arousal sit thick and heavy in his gut, made the hands that threaded through his hair tremble.

Ignis murmured what could have been Gladio’s name. Around his cock it became a messy slur, smears of precome and saliva thick on his lips. It made Gladio’s belly quake. Pleasure peaked inside him and Ignis kept it tightly coiled, pushing Gladio as far as he could without bringing it all to too early an end. It set his nerves alight and balanced prayers and curses on the very tip of his tongue. He teetered forward, weak on his feet like he was a kid again, perfecting his stance with a sword. Gladio hadn’t felt that helpless in a long time.

“Ignis,” he moaned, helplessly. His fingers tightened for a heartbeat before he caught himself - a soothing hand was all he could give in apology. It seemed to be accepted well enough, following the dancing light of amusement within Ignis’ eyes. “Iggy-”

It seemed so unimportant where they were. The laminated wooden floor of Captain Drautos’ office must have been hell on Ignis’ unguarded knees but he never complained for a single second. Instead he kept working, languid and perfectly relaxed, as if the captain would not resurge at any given moment. With his pants are his ankles and boxers caught around his knees, Gladio only faintly felt a damn fool with the ice cold touch of fear. Ebbing fires of arousal chased it all away, curling along the full length of his spine.

One hand curled around the base of Gladio’s shaft. Ignis’ thumb rubbed and teased while his mouth suckled and laved at the prominent tip. All the while his eyes held Gladio’s. They eagerly watched for his pleasure and sheer lack of composure. His mouth was wet and hot, messy, forcing Gladio’s knees to buckle before he could regain control lock them again. It was all he could do to hold himself back from thrusting shallowly into Ignis’ playful mouth.

Ignis’ hand slid up, teasing at the bunched up skin around the head. Massaging it, he stuck out his pink tongue, rubbing the cock against the flat, precome glistening against the muscle. Gladio shuddered at the sparks. His cock dragged and thickened and Ignis rumbled his approval. He swapped to tiny kitten licks, the point of his tongue eager against Gladio’s damp slit. When he drew it back into his mouth slick sounds filled the room, drowned out by Gladio’s rough panting.  Satisfaction and concentration furrowed Ignis’ brow. 

He spread his legs, own bulge heavy in the apex between his thighs and Gladio longed to see his lover in the same ecstasy. Whatever Ignis wanted, he would have. Gladio’s hand, his mouth, his ass. A long afternoon was ahead of them full of drills and meetings and chauffeur but they would be alone together at the end of it all. Gladio would make sure of it. Nothing would keep him from sinking into the pure pleasure of absolute submission.

The thought alone was a dream. So far, and yet within his grasp.

But the thoughts were plucked from him one by one. Ignis’ mouth destroyed his train of thought completely. He winked - he had the damn gall to wink at him, sucking his cock like a pro and still being able to tease - and sank down slow, inch by inch. His lips formed a tight ring when he drew back just to hear his lover whimper and whine. He flattened his tongue beneath his cock and moaned, long and low and the vibrations had Gladio gasping, toes curling in his boots.

Vaguely, he was aware of the sound of Ignis unzipping his own slacks, sighing around his mouthful as he ground his hips into his own hand. He worked himself hard, taking Gladio deeper as he exposed his own cock. It peeked between his fingertips, dribbling and flushed, his eyes burning with lust.

“Fuck,” Gladio declared, tugging at Ignis’ short locks impatiently. Bucking his hips enough for Ignis to get the message to  _ hurry  _ he squeezed his eyes closed, image of Ignis fucking his own hand burnt forever into his memory. Orgasm crept up in his slow, enough that he could barely recognise its imminent arrival. “Fucking - oh, Ignis -”

Ignis released him as suddenly as their little adventure had begun, with Ignis dropping to his knees with no fanfare. He pulled away with a sharp pop too loud for public. Ignis’ harsh breathing told Gladio he touched himself still. Glancing down found Ignis’ thumb sweeping across his tip, taking a detour to squeeze and play with the balls that Gladio knew were soft and fit so easily within the palm of his hand, that Ignis loved to have laved with attention. Ignis’ face showed how overwhelmed he had made himself, mouth a shocking re and a mess of fluids, splashes of colour high on his cheeks. Still stroking Gladio’s cock, the man knew full well what Ignis wanted.

He grunted, steadying Ignis’ head and joining their hands together. He pawed at his own cock, barely managing, “Open your mouth.”

Ignis did him one better. He closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue as far as he could. Ignis waited, hungry and wanting and Gladio didn’t leave him longing.

The tension inside built, wire drawing and tensing until it snapped. Gladio kept his hips still, fighting the urge to thrust his hips forward and make a mess of Ignis’ perfect face. He coaxed out his orgasm and bit back his moan, barely aware of where they were. Warmth engulfed him entirely. Pleasure spread out from his core.

At the first touch of spend across his face Ignis didn’t even flinch. It landed across his upper lip and he moaned helplessly, eyelids fluttering and rocking forward to chase the sensation. Another landed across his tongue, followed by another, and one more across his soft cheek. Gladio stroked himself until his come was nothing more than a soft bead at his slit. Before it could drip to the floor Gladio nudged it to Ignis’ mouth, sliding against the mess already on his tongue.

Upon contact Ignis seized, tremors wracking his slender form, bowing his spine. He silenced himself as he came, sealing his mouth around Gladio’s oversensitive cock and cleaning him, swallowing his cries alongside the evidence of Gladio’s pleasure. Ignis’ resulting mess was the last thing on Gladio’s mind as he caught his breath, worshipped cock softening inside Ignis’ attentive mouth, stroking the base until Gladio murmured his protests.

Panic eventually settled in, a sudden surge of ice claiming him until Ignis set him free and he saw Ignis’ hand, still curled around himself and circling a thumb against his balls. Come gleamed in his palm and Ignis huffed out his laughter, perky and pleased.

“Let us get cleaned up,” he said, voice raw and low, and Gladio sank to his own knees. They clicked loudly on the way down. As he thought, the flooring only made his knees ache and he hadn’t spent ten minutes down there sucking dick. Ignis was a man of many wonders. “Preferably before Drautos returns.”

Gladio quirked a brow. Coming left him winded but there was no time to waste. “Who’s fault would that be?”

Ignis’ grin, wry and covered in his lover’s come still, was somehow charming. “Yours,” he declared, presenting his soaked fingers, “for being so irresistible at ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. There was something truly ridiculous about two grown men on their knees, exposed and messy on the floor of their senior officer. But Ignis’ smirk was a challenge, his fingers a reward - and Gladio leaned forward, drawing those talented fingers into his mouth, just to have those beautiful eyes on him again. Gladio licked them clean carefully, stopping to nip at his fingertips and finish with kisses on each finger, in the centre of his palm, and those eyes were brimming with desire, locked on his lips.

“Are you willing to wager that we could go again before he returns,” Ignis asked, casual as anything - but heavy footsteps on the tile outside had them jumping, flustered, laughing to themselves as the moment passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, at officialcorleonis! the corleonis url is taken by a hipster blog :^)))


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt 'electric'

From the moment they had met, Ignis knew there was something electric between them.

It was impossible to give a name at first and that mystery only piqued his insatiable curiosity. He had never before been faced with something he could not name and conquer and Gladiolus Amicitia was someone it would be a delight to conquer. It was the Scientia way, stripping whatever was unknown of it’s alien nature and crushing it beneath their heels. A family like his would know all.

So Ignis watched, and hypothesized. Placing the blame on their shared roles but starkly different experiences of life was easy, in their wealth and their fame. They were magnets, complete opposites drawn towards one another through some unspoken promise and spoken duty. Invisible ties cut into their skin and bound them tight. It was a good answer however unsatisfying. There was a piece missing, Ignis knew all too well, but a thousand other questions cried out to be answered. 

Gladiolus fell to the side. A confounding puzzle, but one too insignificant to solve. 

And then Ignis was sixteen, Gladiolus seventeen and the Shield glanced at him from across a teeming room, wearing a serious expression and ceremonial suit neatly pressed, with a soldier’s stand and  _ oh _ -

Oh, he thought, and that was it.

Ignis’ stomach swooped down and hit the ground hard enough to wind him. It left him as rigid as those marble statues watching over each and every one of them - heavy frames but nothing but dead weight inside, his heart frozen in time. A glass of wine in his hand - one, the King had said sternly, barely a few mouthfuls of Keycatrich 738 within - damn near slipped from his grasp. 

At his elbow, the prince remained ignorant to his alarm and snuffled quietly. Against Ignis’ arm he emitted a soothing heat, the only thing grounding him to the world. Quickly the evening had fallen, with the ‘glaives long having swapped to their second rotation. Lanterns outside in the courtyard had been lit, soft pastel colours against the night sky. Tired as Ignis had been from fretting over tiny details all day, his revelation was like ice water to his face. He drew up tight, muscles awkwardly rigid and eyes wide.

Noctis barely noticed, and nor did the rapidly shrinking world around them. All motion slowed, stilled, finally slipping away. Warmth and laughter failed to meet Ignis’ ears. Clashing wine glasses became nothing but shrill ringing.

Eyes like whiskey, wise and framed with long thick lashes. They looked away to survey the room, largely uninterested in prince and advisor when he was on duty. Amicitia men always walked alongside the King. ‘glaives and the Advisor shadowed the prince. While Gladio had not been best pleased, never was at being separated from his charge, he had bowed in deference to his father’s will. Ignis had watched his brows knit and jawline tick but the man always listened to his elders. Loyal, to a fault. Mere hours ago that had meant nothing to Ignis - now, the memory made his mouth run dry.

The beauty of him had always been the furthest thing from Ignis’ mind, but knowing he was in the grasp of a merciless fancy brought it to the surface. Gladio had used clay in his short hair to keep the curls as neat and defined as he could. Ignis had smelt it, a sherbert like quality when they passed just outside the hall. It had worked well. Many had tried to convince him to shear his hair close to his skull, just like his father’s. None had prevailed. Perhaps stubbornness, perhaps spirit. Perhaps both. He was beautiful either way and Ignis’ eyes were locked hopelessly upon him. Dark hair, light eyes, rich and warm skin. Tall and broad with full lips Ignis just knew would be pliant against his. Those eager thoughts barely embarrassed him anymore with Gladio right there within his grasp. When he stood so tall and proud he looked much like one of the grand portraits of his ancestors, hung up for all to see and frozen in legend. 

As always, schedules were never far from Ignis’ mind. Numbers and times and names stayed with him always. A week from now, at noon - Gladio’s turn to his portrait painted, days before his eighteenth birthday. Then they could walk beneath his gaze too, noble upon the wall and committed to Lucian history. 

For a fleeting moment, Ignis wondered if it might be anywhere near as beautiful as Gladio. But he knew it wouldn’t be. Nothing could match the flesh.

When the touch on his shoulder came, the world rushed back to Ignis in a way that almost had his knees buckling. Voices came back first in all of their cheer. Smiles and bright lights followed suit. “Specs?” Noctis’ voice sounded right in his ear. Coming back to himself in his entirety, Ignis shook the thoughts from his mind. 

“Your Highness,” he replied, falling back on formalities. He was not yet able to tear his eyes away from Gladio who was staring intimidatingly hard at a couple getting much too close and handsy for public comfort. Ignis took control and found Noctis gazing at him with barely any more alertness. A long few days had become a long evening for them both. “I apologize - what is it, Noct?”

Uncertainty haunted Noctis’ tired face. At only fourteen it was an ugly look. “You were staring at Gladio.”

A Scientia was supposed to be subtle. As unclear the waters of his lineage were he was sure none were caught dead staring lovestruck. Or perhaps they were - as couriers and hunters, they would certainly be caught unaware and killed staring at a distant dream. 

Any attempts to take such wisdoms to heart failed spectacularly. Ignis glanced back to Gladio to find him unmoved and solemn. The couple had disappeared, and Ignis thought perhaps the curtain by the wall was moving perhaps too much to be innocent. “My apologies,” he said again, hating how weak a man had made him. “Is there something you need?”

The prince lowered his head. Shifting from foot to foot, Ignis had to bite back a reminder not to scuff his good shoes. “It’s late,” he began, and Ignis knew exactly where he was going. “I just… I’d like to go.” Tired, painfully earnest eyes looked towards the bridge of Ignis’ nose. Regis’ ability for unshaking eye contact had not been passed to his child. “Please?”

In the moment, Noctis found him as malleable as clay. Ignis had tidied Noctis’ collar that morning, chased away chastising staff who fussed over the dangerously pale hue of Noctis’ skin, the cut of his suit that clung too close to his worryingly slender frame. The boy had been through enough for one evening. Ignis forced an encouraging smile. “You’ve done well tonight,” he praised with heavy infliction, sickly sweet. If Noctis noticed it didn’t show. He smiled, small and shy. “I’m sure no one will mind if you slipped away. I will make the appropriate excuses to your father, if you don’t turn cloak.”

He winked, and it wrung rare and soft laughter from Noctis. Even he seemed surprised in the face of it. “Thank you,” he toyed with the ornate cuffs. Palladium and sapphire set. “I’ll go find Uncle Cor? Nyx?”

“Nyx will be more discreet.” Ignis advised, and in only a moment Noctis was gone, slipping away with a silent Nyx on his heels. Ignis watched until they disappeared, lost in the crowd, and when he turned back to prepare his well meaning lies - but nonetheless, lies, and they made his stomach flip - to his King, there was Gladio casting his very own shadow.

Breath catching in his throat, Ignis took a sharp step backwards. Gladio lifted his hands placatingly. “Sorry,” he said, brows knit and as painfully genuine as always. Before, Ignis thought he was too much of an open book. That seemed a thousand years away. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

Heart fluttering for too many reasons Ignis released the breath in a long sigh. He relaxed the shoulders he hadn’t realised he tensed. Looking up to Gladio was too much. “It’s fine.” Instead, he glanced towards the king only to find all eyes on them; the King, Shield, Marshal. Curiosity and concern was written over every tired face. In his embarrassment Ignis hurriedly looked away to Gladio - Gladio, with his smooth lips and touch of stubble. Ignis’ own still had yet to come in.

Amicitia’s were a study in envy. Bold and beautiful and noble. Ignis may have been tall but he was wispy, not yet showing the physical results he wanted from his training. Gladio was bulky and broad and it was impossible to miss but Ignis had never felt so warm. Heat overwhelmed his face.

The way Gladio crossed his arms over his chest drew attention to his significant biceps. Even underneath his uniform coat they bulged. Ignis swallowed hard. Nowhere was safe to look. Ignis had never looked at him or anyone the way he couldn’t help but see him now - as an adult, as a man, as someone he wanted to know better than schedule and talents. Boyhood crushes had been commonplace throughout his life, little daydreams and longing but Gladio felt different. Gladio was different, he dared to think.

The man seemed to notice his turmoil if not the source. “You alright? You were staring, and then Noct made a sharp exit.”

Any exit was preferable to honesty. Ignis drew himself up to his full height. “If you’re angry about Noct leaving, I’ll have you know -”

Distaste soured Gladio’s expression. He waved a gloved hand and Ignis fell silent. “I ain’t mad. Just worried.”

Worried. A reasonable response but queasiness unsettled Ignis’ stomach. He licked his lips, desperate for his reliable composure. Part of them wondered if they were still being watched. “We’re fine. I was simply...distracted, and Noct was tired. There was a long day of preparations for the both of us.”

If anything Gladio’s frown became deeper. Lines creased his once smooth forehead. “You don’t get distracted. There’s something wrong, then.”

“I’m tired,” Ignis admitted to Gladio and himself after a beat. The celebrations were somehow in full swing, faster music and swirling dancers. Ignis had never longed to be one of them so intensely. Not even as a boy, fascinated by dresses that sparkled and the reflections gleaming on the freshly polished floor.

But a Scientia never showed weakness, physical or emotional. “I have had much to deal with.”

Those eyes abruptly softened. It was a similar look to the one Gladio often gave Iris. Maybe it should have frustrated him, and quelled the fire than ran through him, but somehow it didn’t. Affection felt strange directed towards someone who wasn’t his family or his charge. His chest felt light and yet heavy. “You ain’t wrong,” Gladio murmured. “But if Noct is gone, you don’t have to stay. Go get some rest.”

Ignis shook his head. Tonight, sleep would be an impossibility. At his age and his workload it was all too often. “How will it look, the two of us departing before the night is through?”

“It won’t matter,” Gladio assured him, and tutted like a childhood matron when his only response was a scoff. “Go and rest, Ignis. You don’t look too good.”

The flush on his cheeks had never burnt so intensely. Ignis imagined he looked like an utter state. Gladio’s sparing attention had never flustered him and yet he longed for it, like he had never longed before. Idle fantasies of holding the hand of the boy who lived two doors down in his old village, lingering outside his school to catch one last glimpse of a studious schoolmate seemed so infantile compared to this. Ignis’ hands felt just as useless as they used to, tongue tied. Daring to think of asking Gladio for a dance rendered them clammy.

They were barely friends. That didn’t mean dancing. It didn’t mean anything - and yet, Ignis wanted everything.

“There’s no need to fret,” he tried, and then a large palm was against his forehead and his heart almost crashed down to join the remains of his stomach as the current struck him hard. Gladio frowned down at him, wholly unconvinced, and the desire churned in his loose belly like the wild waves. He was too close.

“I suppose there’s no harm in leaving an hour or two early,” he managed through a tongue that felt twice as thick then before.

Gladio smiled, all white teeth and crooked charm, and Ignis only spiralled further into his ruin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, at officialcorleonis! the corleonis url is taken by a hipster blog :^)))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt, fake dating. Inspired by a post on tumblr but I forget how to link in desc :(

There was a hand spread over Ignis’ outbox that wasn’t there before.

Halfway through signing off an email that was part reminder, part threat Ignis glanced up, pushing his glasses up his nose with an errant hand. Long fingers and a bony wrist covered in thick string and bead bracelets told him everything he needed to know. Colourful tattoos barely hidden underneath a dark casual work shirt and then Prompto’s mischievous grin only confirmed the facts. Every day since the day he and Ignis met the young man had been cheerful, pleasant to a fault.

Today his lips were curled with smug satisfaction. It was the closest to threatening Ignis had ever seen him.

It was 9.32 am. At this point as per the daily grind Ignis had just settled back at his desk with his second coffee. His first was long finished, picking up his usual order at Hammerhead on his way in at 7.30 sharp. Judge as some might, they did wonderful coffee for a shop attached to an out of the way service station. And while Ignis got a headstart on whatever emails had been fired off during his commute, already formulating replies in his head as he ascended the elevator, Prompto would be draped across his desk and moaning at another ‘early’ start. Having arrived at eight just like every other day Ignis would patiently wait for him to become a fully functioning human being before greeting him.

Ignis paused. Then he took a careful sip of his piping hot drink. That was what made him human. “This is unusual,” he said.

Prompto leaned in close. Ignis could count each of his pores. “So. How’d it go?”

Waiting for him to clarify felt fruitless. Reaching forward, he pried Prompto’s hand out of his outbox.  It was distractingly outweighed by his inbox already. “How did what go?”

“You know,” Prompto purred. He splayed himself out on his stomach and took Ignis’ desk over entirely. His rear end stuck in the air, distracting all. As the secretary to Miss Altius walked by weighed down with papers, she lingered a little longer than was strictly necessary. “Your little date. Last night.”

Ignis’ brows rose. “I didn’t have a date last night.”

It had been weeks since his last. Wining and dining was something he had little time for. Scraping together a simple pasta seemed hard enough. A merger was tricky business and Ignis had to behave in an exemplary manner in the face of stress and turmoil. The Caelum clan looked to him as always. Impressing the notoriously finicky Nox Fleurets, coaching the Caelum son in the ways of his father’s business, keeping the cogs of the machine running as smoothly as they were able. It was too much for most. But it was exactly what Ignis strove for - responsibility, and a glowing reputation as someone dependable.

After years in his role he had no such reputation in his private affairs. It had taken years to find someone understanding and Ignis wondered with each accidentally ignored text how they had gotten so far together. He was grateful for the patience of a lover - too many cancelled dates and Ignis falling asleep directly after a few cartons of takeaway was hardly the pinnacle of romance. A million apologies could never feel like enough but there were always whiskery kisses, loving texts both late at night and early in the morning. He supposed that Gladio saw him at work day in and day out and he knew full well how hard he worked.

But they never engaged during their work hours. There were polite nods and greetings as warm as they dared. Ignis bore no doubts that his integrity would be compromised if they announced their relationship; thus, no date.

Thus, Prompto.

The man laughed, and waggled his rear. Ignis supposed he had no clue he was doing it. “Gladio drove you home last night,” he reminded him. “Got you out of that shitty weather. You didn’t invite him in? Show him how grateful you were?”

Ignis steepled his fingers. He had, with his mouth and a few filthy words, and the office was suddenly a little too warm for his suit jacket. His gratitude had culminated in a good hour of sleep being lost fucked into his mattress. Not a date, but when Ignis was splayed against Gladio’s heaving chest he was coaxed into making a few pretty promises. Friday two weeks from that night would be theirs. There was plenty of catching up to do, kisses to be made up. All the beautiful things in life to experience with each other.

“Not in the way that you and half the office expect, I’m sure.”  _ Or particularly want to hear the gory details of. _

“What did you do?”

“Said thank you,” he replied, and kept it at that. Shaking his head he finished signing off with a few aggressive taps of his keyboard. He pulled the laptop lid down with a click and pulled a paper folder closer. It was dogeared and covered in clips and scraps of paper with illegible scrawls from questioning aides. Easily his least favourite. “This might be tempting fate, but what should I have done?”

“Everything, plus a nice thank you,” Prompto declared into the oak of the desk. It couldn’t have been comfortable. Ignis considered offering him a chair but he didn’t want to be dealing with a guest until lunch. “You’re hopeless, Iggy.” Finally sitting up, he pouted. Shifting to take a perched seat on the very edge of Ignis’ desk, it was enough to force Ignis to swallow protests. “You’re supposed to take your chance when you get time with a hottie alone! He gets so many looks and numbers every day but you gotta get in while you can. Gladio won’t be single forever.”

All he could do was hum. He barely absorbed what lay on the waiting page, too involved in Prompto’s amateur dramatics. A little time could be spent entertaining a friend, he supposed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better, and do more. He’s totally into you, dude.” Satisfaction gleamed in baby blues. Animated as ever he clapped his hands, much too loud so early in the offices. “Every morning when you walk in with your coffee, he knows you’re fine as hell. Gives that toothy grin like he could eat you up, says hi all special. Everyone’s seen it.”

It wasn’t wrong. Gladio had done the very same that morning, rumbled his greeting and made a show of winking. “He’s friendly,” Ignis reminded him, and very friendly if the hands on Ignis’ thighs the moment they were alone had anything to say, “and the guard. He says hello to everyone.”

“Not that same way he does you. He goes all,” Prompto cleared his throat hard, tousling his already wild hair as if to get into character. A wonky grin and half lidded eyes had Ignis almost choking on laughter, belly tensing and quickly aching, having to hide his smile with his hand. His expression looked nothing like Gladio, though his impersonation was surprisingly accurate. Low and rumbling, he crooned, “Hey, Iggy. Good mornin’.”

And just like that, his expression changed. It dropped back into Prompto’s excited puppy. “All sexy. Just for you! He wants you so bad.”

It was easy to play off his smile as begrudging amusement. Inwardly it was reassuring to know the world could see and validate how intensely he was wanted, as if Gladio’s occasionally dirty texts weren’t evidence enough. “Thank you, Prompto. Like I said, I will keep this in mind.”

“I just told you Gladio is into you and you’re gonna keep it in mind?” Prompto blew out a long, hard breath. It was hard not to laugh at the utter deflation of his entire body. “You’re terrible. I’d be running to him right now. Wish someone was so clearly into me.”

“I have some work to do, Prompto,” Ignis flipped over to the second page, as if the last had meant anything to him. It wasn’t the font he had asked for. Not was it correctly sourced. He was beginning to wonder if the damn thing was even worth his expensive time. “As do you, I’m very sure.”

“There’s like… zero romance in your soul,” Prompto grumbled. It was fated to become more, a prolonged headache if not for the casual rapping at Ignis’ open door.

They looked up to see the man himself. Gladio stood in the doorway, shoulders almost touching each frame and his familiar smile making Ignis’ heart tighten up as it always had, and he hoped always would. “What’s this about Iggy and romance?” He asked, a curious glint in his eyes alongside a shit eating grin.

Before Ignis could summon an excuse Prompto bounded back up again. “Gladio! Back me up. Iggy’s totally not the romantic type, right?”

Those great shoulders shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, but that smile stretched far too wide to be genuine. Gladio’s handsome face was impossible to ignore, but it tugged at Ignis unbearably when he smiled, burnt him up when he traced his lower lip with his tongue as if thoughtlessly. “I think he could surprise the both of us, you know.”

Ignis could feel the beginning of the awful burn that was embarrassing. He cleared his throat carefully and averted his eyes. Prompto seemed not to notice and heaved a great, theatrical sigh. 

“I wish,” he moaned as if it was the bane of his life. “I’m trying to tell him there’s the hottest dude totally into him and all he’s saying is,” he placed his hands on thin hips, pushing out his chest into some strange power pose and taking on an accent Ignis supposed was intended to be Tenebrean, “‘I’ll keep it in mind!’ Can you believe it?”

Even as Ignis gazed determinedly at his papers, he could imagine Gladio’s expression. Played up as if for some grand audience - lips parted, eyes blown wide. “Iggy!” His long shadow grew as Gladio stepped inside, playing at privacy. “You heartbreaker! Who’s the poor little guy?”

“Can’t say,” Prompto cut in, and Ignis was grateful for his restraint for exactly one second. “But he’s a total babe, and head over heels for boss man here.”

Ignis looked to him sharply. “Prompto -”

Prompto turned his head and with a wink, blew a silent kiss. “We’d all be lucky to have a man like Iggy, right Gladio?”

“Damn right,” Gladio murmured in that tone Ignis loved and loathed. It undid him entirely, especially when he was on his knees bare while Gladio gave him a slow, sensual once over. It brought back a wave of memories he struggled to fend off. Something surged in his belly and he crossed his legs carefully. “But before the handsome stranger steps in and steals Iggy away - can I borrow a little of your time? Got a message from Amicitia senior. Your ears only.”

“Gotcha,” Prompto chirped, and immediately turned to flash a triumphant grin to Ignis. “Catch you later. And don’t think you’ve gotten away from true love just yet.”

With that, he sashayed out and past Gladio. Their parting goodbye was an affectionate pat to Gladio’s biceps, and the very moment he was out of Gladio’s sight he span, flashing Ignis two thumbs up and a wink. Then he was gone, the only sign he was ever there Ignis’ burning cheeks and Gladio’s obnoxious delight.

It was time to face Gladio’s insufferable smugness.

It was time to face Gladio's smugness. "Come in properly," Ignis told him, dropping his biro with a clatter. No work would be done with his boyfriend giving him that look. "Shut the door behind you."

Gladio obeyed wordlessly. Ignis massaged his temple, completely forgetting about his steadily cooling coffee placed out of the way in case of Prompto's shenanigans. The door clicked and Gladio laughed softly. "He been on you all morning?"

"No," Ignis said, removing his glasses and wiping them clear with a silken cloth he kept in his drawer. There was no smudge to begin with. A nervous habit, and Gladio knew it. "But I can already tell he's going to infect Noct with all of his daydreams, and it will span for as long as they believe that I'm single."

"Is it really fancy if I'm for real into you?"

“And how do you know Prompto was talking about you?”

Those pearly whites flashed. “The world’s hottest dude?” Gladio lifted his arms to flex, muscles standing stark against his modest uniform, making it decidedly immodest. Ignis’ mouth ran dry as the sands. “Come on, Iggy.”

Ignis shot him a droll look. He crossed his legs a little tighter. "You didn't hear the details. What they say is fanciful. And 'for real' into me? I think Prompto is rubbing off on you."

Gladio grunted. "As long as they don't push that shit too far," he said, circling around Ignis' desk to stand beside him. When Ignis stayed firmly in his plush seat Gladio only laughed, steadying himself on the arms of Ignis' chair and leaning in to softly nudge their noses together. He smelt intensely of the thoughtless cologne Ignis had brought him for Secret Santa last year, the least romantic and most impersonal gift he could think of. "Cheer up," he breathed. "Your hottie boyfriend who nailed you last night is here."

Ignis' nostrils flared but he allowed Gladio to nuzzle him sweetly. Vague anxiety kept his eyes on the door that wasn't closed. He cupped the back of Gladio's head nonetheless, fingers rubbing at the thick band that kept his hair out of his handsome face. And it was very handsome, Ignis thought, the kind that Ignis would love to keep on a frame on his desk if it wasn't so damn obvious. "I know you missed me this morning. I should have stayed the night."

He had. Colds beds and quiet mornings were dismal things. Even simple the sound of the shower running while Ignis allowed himself an extra ten minutes in bed was something soothing. Ignis missed him sorely and only propriety kept him from pulling Gladio into a kiss every single time he saw him.

They would settle for this a while longer. Until Ignis wasn't afraid, or Prompto dug up the truth. He would eventually. There was no filter or sense of personal space with that man.

His other hand touched Gladio's cheek, guiding his head until he could draw Ignis into a kiss - soft, sweet. "I did miss you," he murmured, and when Gladio laughed, so openly pleased the worry didn't seem so bad.

Gladio touched his fingers, leaning forward to steal a kiss, and all was fine for another morning at work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 5 prompt - slippery.
> 
> a bit vague, but my general idea was 'falling in love with gladio is a slippery slope'

It took less than four months for their simple arrangement to fall into ruin, and Ignis could ignore the gnawing ache in his gut no longer.

When the intensity of their moment finally passed, Gladio laughed from his place against the tense line of Ignis’ throat. Hot air against his slick skin made Ignis tremble, caught between the hard lines of Gladio’s bare body and the cool tile of the shower wall. He didn’t want to move. He never wanted to move. The water drumming down upon them washed away their sweat and come, cleaning away all evidence of their frantic encounter as Gladio slipped out of his body. It left him agonizingly empty. Careful hands had cupped his ass, protecting his hips from slamming against the wall and Ignis missed them sorely. Their moments always passed too quickly.

“Happy birthday, Igs,” he murmured, and set him back down. Ignis’ feet met lukewarm puddles of spiralling water and he flexed, tested muscles that were loose and pliant.  Nothing roused him like Gladio luring him into a pleasant shower on a cold February morning and taking him apart with his mouth, and then giving him everything he begged for in the heat of a moment. All his birthdays past he had woken up alone and cold and make a brief breakfast for one. But it felt impossible to be happy about fleeting touch when Gladio would be gone in a few heartbeats.

Their arrangement was convenient for them both. Or at least it had been at first. Advisor and Shield had little time to relax, let alone find someone to play along with some of their more physical desires, and it had just made good sense. They were rarely apart and searching for that same pleasure. And then Ignis had gone and stumbled, reaching above his station and wishing Gladio didn’t leave so quickly. The man was hardly dismissive - never before had a lover stayed so late so make sure Ignis was clean and comfort, had never parted with a stubbly kiss on his cheek - but Ignis wanted so much more. Hairy legs wound around his. Too loud and offkey singing along with the radio. Everything Ignis thought would irritate him. Ignis wanted to make food for him every morning, and wanted Gladio to chatter all the way to the Citadel as they waited down in the subway, forced close together in the crowd.

But Gladio always left. There was always a greater calling.

“I’ll see you tonight at your ‘surprise’ party,” Gladio told him, and stepped out into the swirling steam that filled up the bathroom. A roguish grin left Ignis hot, hyper aware that he stood naked with bites along his throat, Gladio’s come still inside him. “I’ll leave the water on for you a little longer.”

The mat beneath his feet became soaked when he squeezed out his thick hair and the biggest towel Ignis owned was quickly claimed. It was always a shame to watch Gladio dress but it was a pleasure to watch him stretch to relieve the kinks in his back. Muscles tensed and relaxed underneath his dark skin. Ignis longed to have his hands on it again, to offer a massage that would take up the whole of Gladio’s busy evening. There was nothing outside he needed. Just Ignis’ home and his heart. His hands would squeeze everything, tickle against his stomach and thighs and kiss wherever he could reach. Ignis dreamt of Gladio sighing in pleasure, half asleep against his sheets. 

One night he thought he might ask. Only if he could cope with having Gladio so close but never quite within his grasp. Instead he watched Gladio pat himself dry, stretching out long and thick legs to rub and Ignis devoured every inch. Everyone else could watch but only Ignis had touched. There were pink welts all along Gladio’s back, Ignis’ blunt nails knowing the skin intimately. Lost in his own domestic dreams he imagined kissing the length of his spine. Each little wound would earn its own apology. A rumble would fill the air as Gladio shifted, content, and Ignis would trace patterns along his strong thighs.

Ignis licked his lips as he thought and watched. Gladio towelled his hair dry and Ignis thought of his mouth, the taste of Gladio’s own morning coffee lingering on Ignis’ tongue and it was much too sweet for his liking. But Ignis didn’t mind - not if it was the touch of Gladio’s lips.

With one last look and wink, Gladio was gone in a sway of hips. He pulled the door closed behind him so the steam would not escape the humid room and Ignis finally tore his longing eyes away. Despite everything the room seemed colder now Gladio was gone. Turning up the water pressure and temperature Ignis worked hard to fill the void. In his memory ghosting hands touched his stomach, stroked his cock, rubbed maddeningly against his prostate. Before he could lose himself and cement his loneliness by having to bring himself off, again, he tilted his head for a blast of water. It turned his skin bright pink. Water trailed down his face and along his shoulders. 

But Gladio’s touch always lingered. Phantom hands cupped his ass and the memory of lips traced the shell of his ear, murmuring promises. It had made the fine hairs stand proud. Ignis couldn’t help but trace that path, along his quivering stomach and between his legs. While his cock was soft it stirred as he remembered, stepping closer to the water and feeling the pleasant ache of Gladio, set to carry memories of his lover for hours more.

Soon he would have to set himself straight. Gladio had made no promises of adoration. Only pleasure, taking over his teeming mind and wiping away thoughts of work or responsibility. Such a busy man would not wait for him on his bed. As much as Ignis cherished the thought of a lover curled in his sheets, their scent on his pillows, Gladio would have swept up his crumpled clothes and swaggered home for his father to see and despair. They would not see each other until the celebratory gala that evening - and they would not speak. Gladio would smile at him from across the room from his place at King Regis’ side, find a moment to tear away and hand him a drink and maybe even take him home for part two of his birthday present. Lavish him, tie him to the bed frame, tease him until Ignis knew nothing the sweet surrender of pleasure.

Nothing, but the heart that lay heavy in secret adoration.

A man like Gladio would not ask a man like Ignis to dance. He wouldn’t duck down to kiss him sweetly in front of the entire world. That wasn’t them. And it wasn’t fair to expect otherwise - Ignis’ overwhelming feelings had not been the arrangement.

Ignis moaned to himself, soft and despairing, and cupped a hand over his hardening cock. He stroked and squeezed, bringing himself back to uneager life. His body sang for it. His soul only sagged, hating each spark of pleasure but thoughts of Gladio and soft red rope against metal had to be banished. 

When he was done, choking on his orgasm and spilling himself down the shower drain, he knew all too well what little they had needed to end. And tonight. 

When he was finally ready to face the empty expanse of his apartment, Ignis turned off the water. And the silence ached. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Those fingers paused, thoughtful and careful, and they slowly drove Ignis to despair. All he could hear was the unstoppable thunder of his own heart rate, his pulse taking over his life. Each pound slammed against his ribs in a way that stole his breath, his back arching and eyes going hazy - and Gladio, once so merciful a man, was pushing him without reprieve.

Ignis was splayed. Legs parted, lips damn and swollen. Naked and with his belly against Gladio’s thighs he was vulnerable in a way he had never been before. Out of helpless desire to ground himself he gripped the bed sheets, creasing the messy fabric. With his head hung all he could do was gaze at the grooves in the laminate flooring. 

Squirming did him no good. Gladio’s large palm rest firmly on the small of Ignis’ back. The other worked between his legs.

The soft pads of fingertips pressed with confidence against his prostate. They made his thighs tremble and strain as he stretched and his toes curled. He had underestimated his lover entirely - thought that their little game might be easy, or it wouldn’t wreck him as much as either believed. Not for the first time that day it brought frustrated tears to his eyes. Every twist of Gladio’s hand, every flex of his wrist and Ignis’ stomach dropped yet another foot. Pleasure sparked inside his belly with no end in sight - Ignis writhed, trying to escape his lover’s sure hand, but the hold on his waist moved. It left him, scalding hot skin suddenly gone and Ignis sighed in relief.

But then the hand reappeared as quickly as it left. It swatted his rear hard and the softness bounced, colliding with a solid, silence chattering crack. Ignis’ arousal only flared. His heart seized and he choked on a thick whimper. Too late he covered his mouth to imprison it. The force jolted him forward, heavy cock grinding against Gladio in the first bit of contact he had enjoyed in hours.

“Stay still,” Gladio murmured distractedly, lost in unknown thoughts, and Ignis could have wept. But he obeyed. That was the whole point. Ignis would obey no matter what Gladio decided to put him through.

Gladio was three fingers deep, lube faithfully by his side. They kept the flame stoked, roaring higher and higher until Ignis could take no more of it. The heat and pressure drove Ignis to the brink again and again, killing him slowly, making his belly warm and taut. That strike was mesmerizing, and Ignis thought to beg him for another. It tingled, and later on it would ache softly and Gladio would kiss it for Ignis’ comfort. Until then he kneened, keeping his shamefully flushed face low in humility. Flexing his fingers in the sheets were his only tether to reality. They had only been changed fresh and first thing that morning and were already stained, soaked through. Ignis’ morning had been one hell of a trial. He should have known, after what he asked of Gladio only last night. Wringing the pastel blue comforter in his hands barely soothed his itching agony. 

In the face of Gladio’s dauntless torture Ignis could only lay in ruin. Saliva damped his chin and slicked his cheeks. Even his powerful thighs struggled under the expectation of keeping his ass aloft. It was difficult to hold the curve of his back that Gladio ordered. His muscles bulged and burnt.

“Gladio,” he gasped. Begging was not something that Ignis did. Defeat was not something he ever accepted, from himself or anyone else. But his lover’s name came to him as naturally as his heady arousal, cock smearing sticky precome over Gladio’s leathers. His balls felt ready enough to burst. “Gladio…”

That hand smoothed over the stinging of his ass. It traced gentle, affectionate patterns on his red hot skin, moving gradually along the curve, the crease where his thigh melted into his stomach. Gladio loved the little natural rolls there, what Ignis could never budge from his meals because he was simply human and it embarrassed him a little, even as it pleased him. Being pinched and kneaded softly. Calluses stroked patterns that might have been soothing. Instead they only fuelled Ignis’ fight. He squirmed against his bounds, truly desperate. Gladio hummed. Ignis couldn’t read his noise, unsure of pleasure or disinterest. Those fingers inside him crooked and rubbed at his sensitive insides, testing and teasing. Ignis moaned lowly in the back of his throat.

“Be good for me,” his lover commanded and it tore helpless whimpers from his throat. Those clever fingers never ceased, rubbing and stretching, coaxing his body to become pliant. And yet nothing would come of it - Ignis would not get the cock he was craving tonight, not the next. Not even after that. Desire drive him mad. And he loved it - Gladio manhandling him over his lap, slapping his ass when Ignis disappointed him, fucking him leisurely when he pleased him and testing to see what Ignis could take. And it had been that way since they had woken. Gladio had looked at him, eyes casual but blazing hot and Ignis could only part his legs and take whatever he was given and thank his lover for it, even if his cock strained, unloved for the rest of the evening.

Begging was not something he did. Begging was not -

Those fingers chanced across his prostate, stroking over it randomly again and again. Ignis’ cock pulsed in time, muscles spasming. Begging was not -

“Please,” he burst, every part of him slick and warm. Anything would make him come now. Grinding his palm against his cock, a warm kiss against the nape of his neck. Edging closer and closer on Gladio’s bastard fingers he wanted to shriek. Days, it had felt like, days since a touch had made him lose his mind and sob. And Ignis knew if he didn’t beg prettily enough it would be days after all. It would sit in his belly, all that potential boiling over. An ache like no other had him gasping. “Please, please, I need it-”

“You asked for this,” Gladio reminded him with a harsh click of his tongue against his teeth. Shame mixed with the anticipation roiling inside Ignis and it made the pleasure so much deeper, cloying and delicious. It brought tears to Ignis’ eyes, staining his cheeks. And he had asked for it. He had come home from another long day where everything was within his grasp, malleable and waiting, dressed to the nines with collar and cuff disguising him completely. Stiff fabric and the silken touch of his underthings hid all his desire and Ignis was sick of it. Sitting ramrod straight and distant and asking Gladio to control him.

Power made some men drunk. It made others cruel. As he teetered on the edge of annihilation Ignis was lost trying to find where Gladio stood - and he found him in kindness when Gladio trailed gentle kisses across the entire length of Ignis’ shoulders. His lips connected each of Ignis’ freckles.

“You asked for this,” Gladio reminded him, low and careful and filled with hesitation. A safe word lay between them. It was nowhere near the tip of Ignis’ tongue. “I’ll always give you want you want. You know that, right?”

Those capable hands framed him. The fingers inside calmed, slowly maintaining Ignis’ pleasure rather than pushing him towards an orgasm that would never come. He breathed, holding it deep and carefully letting it go. It filled the waiting silence between them.

One word, and his loving boyfriend would all too happily give him what he longed for.

Ignis swallowed. Breathed, and murmured, “Keep fucking me. Please… please don’t let me come.”

Gladio laughed, soft and in a way that touched Ignis to the core of his heart, and slid those fingers deep enough inside for Ignis to curse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final day - thanks so much for reading! I will go through and reply to the comments soon, promise. I just wanted to make sure I got everything done in time rip

“You’re killing me here, big guy,” Prompto muttered, expression and tone equally bitter. Those slender shoulders slumped and even his hair seemed to droop, but Gladio ignored him in favour of focusing his balance so the fine autumn evening wasn’t ruined by a tumble into the water.

At the opposite end of their rented gondola and sprawled gracelessly on his back, Noctis looked up from the brochure. Dark sunglasses disguised his eyes and an awful tourist hat still perched on his head. So late in the evening it only made him look a fool. It also still bore the price tag. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Prompto assured him with a decidedly more chipper tone. It lasted five seconds until Noctis glanced away - then those narrowed eyes settled back on Gladio, and he hissed, “I’ve been rowing for hours, dude!”

Gladio held his gaze and took a long sip of his water. Somewhere in their long trek around the city he had become parched, his mouth uncomfortably dry. “It’s been ten minutes.”

Prompto’s cheeks puffed up in outrage. “That’s ten minutes I wouldn’t have had to be doing this if you asked him at Maagho’s like you said!” 

Always the height of maturity, Gladio flipped him off in response. Prompto’s face creased up, ready to drop the oar or strike him with it, before a long and weary sigh interrupted them.

Lying out alongside Noctis and basking in the quiet of a humid Altissian evening, Ignis stared them out with his famously even expression. Noctis hadn’t bothered looking up, shoulder to shoulder with his friend and comfortable. Even so both looked distinctly unimpressed. The soft breeze ruffled his loose hair but it didn’t soothe the severity. “What exactly are you two muttering about?”

“Prom’s complaining about the warmth,” Gladio supplied, lies prepared for any occasion. It was a half truth, with each of them groaning at the oppressive heat at one point or another. They had all shed their jackets and unbuttoned shirts if they could. Prompto’s thin, pale arms were pink from the sun. Noctis had withered with each moment away from the shade. A few days in Altissia had made the odd freckles over each of their bodies stand stark. “Tell him to quit it, Igs.”

Colour on Prompto’s cheeks went splotchy to bold in a blink of his eye. “Tell Gladio to quit it!”

Ducking down and cupping his hand, Gladio splashed water towards him. It felt pleasant and cool against his hand, good enough for him to consider a dunk. “Stop being a baby.”

“Gentlemen,” Ignis cut in smoothly. Raising a voice over their indignance wasn’t easy. “Might I remind you we’ve come on a diplomatic mission alongside his Majesty, and we represent the whole of Lucis in public and in private?” He served Gladio a specially sharp look, glasses low on his nose.

A laugh was his response. It was loud enough to carry high above into the apartments above them. A small girl peered over the rail of her balcony, standing on her tiptoes to see them. Curious eyes gleamed, but she ducked away with a sharp gasp when Gladio spotted her and lifted his palm in greeting. “A little rich, coming from you - where was that diplomacy when you were fighting that merchant over your spices?”

A sudden smile sharpened Ignis’ features. It was wicked and teasing, Gladio’s personal favourite. He stretched out a little further, a little more languid. Shopping bags filled with exclusive ingredients lay in the gaps between them. It was a miracle the gondola hadn’t sunk into the dark depths. “Diplomacy is a fine thing, but not when it leads to one being walked all over.” He tilted his foot, pointing the tip of his somehow spotless shoes towards Gladio. “It’s a valuable lesson learnt, if you know how to listen.”

Gladio snorted, and Noctis wore a wry smile. “Whatever you say, Iggy.”

Ignis set his phone against his belly. Despite the fact they had been given the day to relax Ignis’ phone was constantly buzzing and Ignis kept it his priority. Classicially unable to relax, it was impossible to pry it from his hands and a few times Gladio had slung an affectionate arm around his shoulder and peaked at his screen, almost worried about a screen tearing them apart even on a rest day. But Ignis had always shied away. Sometimes he gave him a questioning look, tucking it into his pockets and he wouldn’t check it again until Gladio stepped away, distracted by stalls or birds hopping along the nearby dining tables. A few times Ignis wouldn’t cave to his questions but would sigh in the face of Gladio’s playful sadness, and lean forward to softly kiss his lips. But it never lasted for long. Minutes later Ignis would be tapping away. Work, then, and Ignis’ simple shame at not leaving well enough alone.

Similarly, Noctis had been glued to his own almost all day. Somehow Gladio didn’t think he was working. Messaging his father, perhaps, sending the wonky selfies he had taken at the best fishing spots Lunafreya had carefully researched and recommended to him. When Prompto bickered about trivia Noctis would be the first to Moogle it, determined to be proven right. Gladio hadn’t asked, and perhaps he should have. As he watched Noctis’ phone burst into light mere moments after Ignis settled his down. It would be a miracle to have the two of them present, he thought.

But Ignis’ eyes were on him and Gladio would take the moment where he could.

“You still haven’t told me what the two of you are scrapping about,” he continued, voice low as if to settle the atmosphere back down. It felt like a private moment between them again rather than caught between Prompto, the embodiment of bitterness and a lazing Noctis. Hiring the largest gondola available had only given them a few extra inches of wriggle room, easily taken up by several pairs of long legs and shopping. Gladio might have suggested hiring another, for the sake of romance and fewer cramps.

But Prompto had veto’d that instantly with a single severe look, something to rival his father’s - photos of his two closest friends becoming engaged had to be up close and personal, not several feet away from a poor vantage point with terrible lighting and a completely unaware prince complaining about suddenly having to row. There were too many risks to ruin a flawlessly romantic moment.

All Gladio had to do now was scrounge up the bravery to ask.

When Gladio cast a glance towards his partner in crime there was only exasperation in his eyes. The oar cut through the water steadily but it was all too clear how he drooped. It had been hours since Gladio’s chance, the moment they agreed on and even Prompto’s immortal patience was growing dangerously thin.

“Think Prom’s just tired,” Gladio plucked another half truth from the darkest depths of deceit. Even little white lies felt wrong. “Hot, tired, and hungry as hell.” At least two of those things were true - a bead of sweat made Prompto’s brow glisten and Gladio’s shirt, a dark henley not quite appropriate for the occasion but better than a tank and less suspicious than a dress shirt, stuck uncomfortably to his back. He knew without checking it was almost black with sweat stains.

Concern wiped the small smile from Ignis’ face. He sat up with enough urgency to have Noctis tearing his eyes away from his phone. “I’ll take over.”

“Nah, I got it,” Prompto said, continuing to cut through the peaceful water. Ten minutes might have been nothing but Gladio knew he would be feeling the strain too, as loathe as he was to admit it to himself. Prompto plastered on a big crooked smile. Charm oozed from every pore. “Don’t worry your handsome little head about it. Settle back.”

It disarmed Ignis completely. Compliments so often did. With a laugh and only a small, anxious clearing of his throat Ignis made himself comfortable again. A pleased if not embarrassed smile bloomed. “If you’re sure. Please let me know when you’re truly tired, Prompto, and I will be happy to take over.”

“Could do this all night,” he declared with only the smallest strain, and Gladio expected his lover to make himself comfortable again with a roll of his eyes and check his phone. No doubt he thought he would be called upon shortly. Instead he rumbled with contentment and stretched, faintly grimacing as something unsettled audibly gave way in his back. A hand trailed a pattern in the water, quickly swallowed by the gentle pulsing of the tide.

Ignis looked truly at peace. Work was all too often unbearable for the both of them but the odd days of relaxation made the struggle worth it. There were subtle shadows underneath his eyes, carefully disguised with expensive concealer but it was nothing a few good nights of undisturbed rest wouldn’t cure. Ignis’ carefully fixed hair had been ruined by the dual assault of Prompto’s overeager hands and the mist off the sea breeze. Noctis had been lethargic all day, barely pleading for a few hours wandering out to fish and they hadn’t even spent all day out in his father’s ship to Gladio’s eternal surprise. They had been free to wander together and there had been no need for Ignis to shy away from Gladio’s sloppiest, most eager kisses so far from home. Pink had been a permanent stain on Ignis’ cheeks all day. Better, but only just, the world had been shown the beauty of Ignis’ smile lines creasing his soft cheeks.

It was the kind of day Gladio wanted Ignis to experience every day. What he loved, and what he deserved. Something as Ignis’ husband he would strive to give him with everything he had.

Under his seat Gladio had tucked his leather jacket. In the inner pocket was the ring box that had tortured Gladio for weeks. It was only small but heavy in meaning, containing a lightweight, practical band. The breadth of it, Prompto had all too loudly informed him, was painfully obvious in the cling of his jeans. A mercy, Gladio supposed. It stopped him from anxiously fumbling constantly and giving the game away. In the dead of night Gladio had taken to rubbing his thumb over the velvet of the box, the same way he often stroked his thumb against Ignis’ prominent knuckles. It comforted him to think of Ignis wearing the ring he had chosen for him out of hundreds he had viewed, gleaming in the morning light when they woke up engaged. Sleepy eyes and an overjoyed smile, sweet kisses and a lazy morning in. Gladio would treasure him always.

_ Ask, you idiot,  _ he urged himself. The day wouldn’t last forever and soon enough they would be home in Insomnia, unpacked and back to work. Lunch at Weskham’s had passed before he even knew it. Time spent enjoying the sun with Ignis laying by his side on the royal vessel had gone even quicker. So had hours spent in the market, buying out damn near half the patisserie just to see Ignis snort with laughter at the looks on the clerks faces and marvelling at the overly dramatic street performances. Gladio knew they would give in and find a hole in the wall secret treasure for their next meal, something Ignis simply loved to search for and savour, and Gladio would lose his nerve again and again until they were finally abed. Ignis would slumber with a graceless arm slung over his stomach and his knee digging between Gladio’s thighs, utterly unaware of how his lover had failed him. A dinner time proposal felt too common. A sleepy proposal seemed thoughtless. It had to be now.

_ Ask him _ , and when Gladio finally looked up from over analysing the purposefully ripped, threaded holes in his new jeans he found Ignis gazing at him, eyes clouded and deep in thought.

Their eyes met, and Ignis immediately smiled at him. If Gladio were a braver man he might have winked to earn his laughter, and if he were lucky a few flirtatious words. Instead he ignored the anxious roiling of his stomach and forced a smile of his own, hoping it didn’t look as brittle as it felt. Ignis seemed not to notice. He shuffled closer, careful not to jostle Noctis or disturb Prompto’s tireless work. Cross legged, he settled down almost at Gladio’s feet.

“Today has been wonderful,” he murmured, the sounds of the beautiful city alight around them. Lights sparkled everywhere Gladio looked, store fronts filled with people window shopping and waiters in tucked away restaurants cleaning tables and calling out goodbyes to departing customers. Music still filled the air from busking performers. “Hasn’t it? You’ve enjoyed yourself, I hope. I know we didn’t spend much time at the performing arts theatre as you would have liked, but -”

That familiar tone had emerged - fretful, as if Ignis were worried there was something he had missed. It was common and easy enough to soothe. Gladio only had to reach out and take his hand.

“Today’s been the best,” he promised, and simply enjoyed Ignis’ cool and assured fingers against his. They stroked and curled around his own, until Ignis hooked his ring finger with Gladio’s. A message, he thoughts, or simply a coincidence.

Maybe even his perfect opportunity to make Ignis his, if he could ignore the two pairs of eyes seemingly locked onto them. No doubt Prompto was ready to explode. From just behind Ignis their charge was staring, his dark eyes finally alert. A worryingly large part of Gladio wanted to knock them clear off the gondola, throw a couple gil after them and tell them to sort of dinner alone. Privacy for them was so rarely an option. But Gladio loved them and they deserved to be a part of their moment too, and Ignis smiled so widely, so earnestly, Gladio couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away.

“I love you,” he said, taking his chance while it was still available to him. He squeezed Ignis’ hand with all the care he held for him and had done so for as long as he could remember. It would only take a moment to grope around for the ring box. Even with his shaking hands. At least he wouldn’t be able to quiver on one knee with no space but he knew Ignis would forgive him for forgoing tradition. Tradition in his private life was hardly his focus on a public life crammed full of it.

Thinking on it, perhaps a proposal curled up in bed with room service wasn’t such a terrible thought after all.

But pleasure sparked in Ignis’ delighted eyes. “And I love you,” he returned, modestly as if worried their companions would pull faces, declare their joking disgust to the skies. “More than you know, Gladiolus. Each day we’re together is a wonder.” He paused. “I hope you feel the same.”

That deeply held anxiety was embraced by the joy Ignis brought. Everything felt light and yet awfully heavy, his chest constricting tight and Noctis’ eyes felt like the heaviest load. Ignoring his intensity was nigh impossible.

“‘course I do,” he said, and his eyes couldn’t help but drop to Ignis’ lips. They were flushed today, swollen from Ignis’ teeth gnawing at them since the early morning. A nervous habit the man had never quite been able to shake. So wrapped up in his daydreaming, lost in the thought of their future, Gladio had barely noticed how wrapped up Ignis had been - in his phone, in his thoughts. All of a sudden his thoughts of their companions fled his mind. “Is something up? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ignis replied, too quickly to be genuine. Gladio had believed that Ignis’ hands were simply warm. Now they felt sweaty, like Ignis was nervous, and Gladio narrowed his eyes. “It’s simply - well, perhaps not simply -”

Distant awareness told him Prompto was no longer rowing. Pulses from the sea carried them slowly into the unknown. Noctis had sat up and put his phone to one side. 

With a rattling breath, reaching up with what Gladio had thought was a hidden free hand, Ignis used a closed fist to brush Gladio’s thick, curled hair out of his eyes. A wine red box lay in his hand, and Gladio’s belly clenched painfully tight. 

A possibility lit up like a sudden flame in his mind, and then his heart, and Ignis shifted to rest unsteadily on one knee. Somehow he managed to find the space. 

Ignis’ smile was self depreciating. “I’d been thinking - well, dreaming a while - could you - would you possibly -”

“Love of the Six, give me strength to deal with these idiots,” Gladio thought he heard someone growl, but noise around him became fuzzy. Nothing mattered when Ignis presented the ring box to him. Nothing at all, not the awful sweat that was the worst suffering he had ever known rolling down his back, and not even his own blue velvet box hidden away as if it was something to be ashamed of.

“Would,” Ignis hesitated, and swallowed hard. “Would you do me the incredible honour of becoming my husband, Gladio?”

Water sloshed against the gilded wood. Families laughed above in their apartments as they shared their last meal of the day. Gladio stared, barely registering the world around him. Inside the box the silver ring gleamed as did the frame of Ignis’ slipping glasses. Between them the silence seemed to roll on forever like the tide.

Gladio tried to speak before he was truly capable of words. What emerged was a mess of stammering. Ignis’ name, threaded with awe and incomprehensible shock. “Ignis… Ignis, I -”

“I’d quite like to be yours,” Ignis said, seeming so very small on his knees. Faced with Gladio’s slack jawed hesitance, anxiety had planted a faint tremor within Ignis’ famously sure hands. “If you’d have me, of course.”

“Gods,” Gladio choked, and then a painful smile came uncontrollably to his face. He laughed, a man possessed. Running a hand through his hair he barely managed through laughter, “Gods, Iggy, I don’t know what to say.”

If the way Gladio’s wide smile made his face ache meant anything, it served as an inspiration. Ignis’ knelt a little steadier, his fear fading just a touch. His own smile made something tight flutter in Gladio’s chest.

“Say yes, you dumbass,” Prompto muttered, still frozen in time, hands squeezing the oar. Every eye was upon Gladio. It had to be a surprise if Prompto hadn’t yet snatched for his camera, too lost in the unpredictability of the moment.

Gladio could do him one better. Without a word he fumbled for his jacket. Useless fingers struggled with the zips for torturously long moments before he eagerly produced his own ring box with a dramatic flourish.

Noctis’ breath caught somewhere inside him, dragging through his throat while Ignis stopped breathing entirely. Laughter bubbled up inside Gladio at their stunned expressions, matching perfectly, and soon enough Prompto was hysterical along with him.

“Shit!” Dropping the oar with a sharp smack against the water, he didn’t think once about their position. The oar floated away. No one cared. Scrambling for his camera became Prompto’s top priority. “You guys! Neither of you knew?” Without pausing for response he snapped a flurry of shots, familiar clicks filling the evening air.

Gladio propped the box open, displaying the gold ring he had chosen for Ignis. Subtle and practical. Traditional, in a sense, but suited well for Ignis with just enough flair to satisfy Gladio. And he watched as Ignis’ jaw slacked and his brows arched. In all their long years it was the very first time he saw his lover reeling. Not for the first time Prompto’s dedication to his art was a blessing, even if he was clambering all over the rocking boat for the best vantage point.

It was clear for Ignis’ face and the way Gladio’s heart was performing cartwheels that neither had known a damn thing about it. Ignis had behaved normally. Perfectly so, Gladio thought, as calm and collected as he had always been. There hadn’t been a single moment he thought Ignis was sneaking around behind his back. But that was Ignis. Smart and sneaky, capable of flawless subterfuge. 

Maybe things were different for a well organized man like him, but Gladio had been working on the surprise for months. Diplomacy was a delicate thing and the official opening of the new embassy was something that had been in the works for months. Weeks and weeks were spent stressing over the smallest details. Location alone and security had to be hammered out in a way that pleased every party. The lion’s share was Ignis’ burden - giving Noctis refresher lessons on Tenebrean history and customs, the long line of Oracles and each name of the last successors over at least the past hundred years. All that was expected of Gladio was to show up, be muscles and shepherd the prince as necessary and not make a damn fool of himself.

He had supported Ignis every way he could throughout the long process. But he was keeping secrets - and so caught up in his own plans, he hadn’t looked to see that Ignis was juggling two shows at once.

It was Gladio’s perfect chance to ask him in Altissia. For years being Ignis’ husband was a little fantasy of his, even when it came to the agonizingly domestic - letters addressed to both their names or being introduced as Lords Amicitia. But nowhere in Insomnia seemed right. In the smog of the city there was no space to be two lovers underneath the wide night sky.

In his eyes Altissia seemed to be their moment. It was their moment. And Ignis all along had the exact same thought.

Slowly the man came back to life. Eyes drifted from the ring Gladio offered to his face, lost in a thousand intruding thoughts. He wavered dangerously on his knees again.

It took Noctis' hand on his shoulder to bring him home. Happiness lit him up, eyes bright and a genuine smile splitting his face. It only widened as he saw Ignis’ surprise up close. “Feel any better about the chances of a yes, Specs?”

Ignis barely registered the touch. Hundreds of different loving words came to Gladio’s mind, but they couldn’t press past the blockage of his tight throat. Prompto worked around them still, cackling to himself. 

“How,” Ignis tried, and his voice was weak. Clearing it, he began anew. “How long have you…?”

“A couple months,” Gladio’s own voice was rough. Ignis’ breath seemed chronically stuck in his chest. “Fucked up a little planning though.” Hoping to be charming in his failure, his smile sat on a face burning red from embarrassment. “Wanted to ask you in Maahgo. Lost my damn nerve.”

"Gladio," Noctis moaned, but it didn't matter in the face of Ignis' laughter. It lit up his handsome face. When his eyes squeezed shut the crows feet appeared in the corner, soft and sweet. 

"That explains the Duscaen red and your sweaty palms," he teased, like his hands had not been obviously trembling since the moment he sunk to his knees. "What were you so afraid of?"

"The same thing that had you stammering." Awkward as it was, Gladio shifted closer. Four men on a gondola was shaping up to be his worst tactical decision in years. Gladio's great weight shifting to settle closer to Ignis was even worse. "Was afraid you'd say no. Say it's too soon or inappropriate."

Gentle exasperation had Ignis shaking his head. A bead of sweat glistened at his temple. Altissian nights were much more humid that even the tightest packed street in Insomnia and Gladio didn’t even care anymore. "I think you have my answer now."

“Still be nice to hear it,” Gladio prodded with a side of cheek, one last tiny part of him in the throes of agony, longing for a yes.

Still smiling, Ignis’ brows shot up to his hairline. "I believe I'm the one who asked first, thank you very kindly."

"Yeah, Gladio," Prompto grinned, just as he settled in for a close up. Gladio resisted the urge to smack the camera into the water. They contained a whole weeks worth of treasured memories. The kind they would pour over for years, pass down the children, to their children’s children. Gladio couldn’t wait. "Make Iggy's year, dude."  

They were close now. The sun had began to bring out Ignis' spray of freckles. Gladio counted and treasured each one only the night before, and if he had his way, he would kiss along and connect them all night long.

"Yes," Gladio said, and it was his turn to clear his throat. Something inside him was wracked with tremors and excitement. His head span uncontrollably and he had never sweat so much in his life. "Yeah, I'll marry you."

A little excited wriggle from Prompto rocked the boat. Noctis squeezed and rubbed Ignis' shoulder as the man seemed to slump in his relief. A beaming smile overpowered him, and he murmured, "Thank you," with spots of pink high upon his cheeks. Pleasure like no other filled them both to the brim, lighting up the already gorgeous world around them until it was blindly beautiful. "My answer is the same."

Whether or not they capsized be damned. Gladio leant in precariously, holding the box and praying the ring wouldn't clatter to the damp floor of the boat - Ignis had similar, carefree thoughts as he met him halfway. A hand came to rest on the nape of Gladio's neck, holding him in and never wanting to let him go. Ignis' lips were insistent and firm, confident at last, and he tasted of the wine Weskham had worked so hard to find and order for them specially. In a glass, it was fine. On Ignis' lips it was spectacular.

"Thank you," Ignis pulled away but rest his forehead against Gladio's. "Thank you. I love you, Gladio." 

Ignoring the steady click of Prompto's camera, Gladio smiled and surged forward again, pouring every single fragment of himself into the moment. Everything he wanted to say and everything he had ever dreamed of. He traced his tongue along the breadth of Ignis' lower lip, but withdrew until he felt he could trust himself again. Too many people still wandered along the marble paths, and they had the rest of their lives to share their kisses.

Ignis flushed, flustered. He was pink down to his collarbones. His lips, slick and shiny stretched into a grin unlike any other. Still his hand held Gladio intimately close while his other rest the box against his chest, a little further right of his heart.

"I love you," Gladio returned, and smiled when Ignis bowed his head forward once more, to lean against Gladio's warm shoulder. “I love you, more than anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr, at officialcorleonis! the corleonis url is taken by a hipster blog :^))))


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